And they danced the circle round...
--[ Smoking Parlor ]----------------------------------[ Mozart Townhouse ]----
The smoky atmosphere is fragrant with memories of cigarettes and
cigars. The parlor split into two areas. A bar lines the right wall,
fully stocked with rare wines and liquors. Opaquely stained glass
rests behind the array of bottles. Richly stained cabinets hang from
the ceiling, mirroring the rich hues of the countertops. Glasses of
varying sizes hang down from slitted holders for easy access. Worn
leather couches of dark tan decorates a sitting room that looks out on
a rounded hearth. Richly stained tables complete the ensemble.
A pool table of red felt and dark mahogany, is erected to the left
side of the room. Pool cues and sticks are stored in a richly stained
case. Off to the corner rests a circular felt-topped table. Enough
room to sit five comfortably. Small stacks of white, blue and red
chips rest in a holder at one setting.
Beautifully crafted archways leads off to the north and open onto the
grand hall. While another set of subdued doors leads into the gardens
and nestled into the northwest wall.
Clustered here are Desirata. Also here is Navarre.
--[ places ]-----------------------------------------------[ Exits: N NW ]----
--[ Desirata ]----------------------------------------------------------------
The woman stands at nearly a height of 5'10, lithe and willowy. Rich sable and chestnut ringlets fall over her shoulders and cease about mid-back. Currently the curls have been partially pulled back into a silver ring. The rest hang flowing about her shoulders. A singular lock, shorter than the others, hand haplessly over the woman's left eye.. Her heart shaped face is accentuated with almond shaped eyes of a brilliant blue with golden flecks about the pupil. Sable brows, arched and sculpted bear a contrast to her fair skin. While high, statuesque cheekbones and slender nose complete her features with full lips the color of pale roses.
She wears a dress made of chiffon and lace, designed as a halter-top that catches in a belt of cream velvet. Skirts of chiffon spill to the floor. It hints at a transparent that scrutiny proves to be merely an illusion.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--[ Navarre ]-----------------------------------------------------------------
Short and black, this young man's hair is trimmed around the ears and shaved to a neat point upon the nape of his neck. His dark hair and olive complexion doing little to lighten the rest of his features. Thick brows arch slightly above deep brown eyes that reveal little of his inner thoughts and emotions.
At 5'11", he is neither tall nor short but the fit of his clothing indicates that he is lean. His choice of clothing is simple; a short sleeved green shirt tucked into black pants. His right wrist is currently bandaged with a splint, indicating it has been broken recently. Both his belt and boots are made from black leather and he wears a silver ring upon the index finger of his right hand. Worn upon his right hip is a sabre, the scabbard slightly worn and plain. Tucked into his left boot is a throwing dagger made from silver.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The friendly warmth of the parlor is in raring form. Fires stoked up in the fireplace. The lady of the house has taken up a perch at the side of the pool table. Cue in hand, and wine glass in the other, she accesses the current shot. Perhaps informed of the man's visit while already in play of the current setup.
Navarre inclines his head politely to the servant as he takes his leave, having shown the young Mandrake lord in. Navarre then glances across at Desirata, "Hello Lady Desirata. I trust you are well?"
Desirata dips her head, sipping at what looks to be scotch. "And what do I know such a visit, my lord," she counters lightly. The current shot forgotten for a moment.
Navarre's gaze lowers to the table to examine the lay of the land. "Care for an opponent?" He smiles and looks back up to you, "You did extend an invitation for dinner, milady. I thought it prudent to come and learn the terms of such an invitation."
"The terms," Desirata chuckles, and begins to circle the table. Each ball is pulled from the pockets, rolling towards the center. "Rack them up. You say that as though there is some hidden meaning to my invitations, Lord Navarre."
Navarre walks over to the table and does as bid, racking up the balls and setting the table anew. He smiles, "Perhaps I am cautious because of the repercussions brought about by the timing of your invitation, Lady Desirata."
Desirata lifts a sable eyebrow. 'The timing? Do you still not believe me, my lord." A gentle chiding, reflected with amusement, to the gentleman. She rolls the last ball in his direction. "Speak your mind, Lord Navarre. It is always more safe than allowing one to assume."
Navarre places the last ball into the triangle and lines the pyramid up. When happy with the arrangement, he lifts the triangle and steps away from the table to choose a cue. "I do have to ask, Lady Desirata, have I caused you any offense? I have been, shall we say, advised, that you may be displeased with me."
Desirata continues the circle the table, dragging the stick along at her side. The other hand still retaining her scotch. "Displeased? Well, it would depend on what you were addressing, Lord Navarre. I prefer to not wear my emotions on my sleeve, but I like to think myself forthright. Who made such a suggestion?" She gestures to Navarre the liberty to break.
Once he's chosen which cue he wishes to use, Navarre returns to the table to chalk it lightly. He takes the white ball and prepares to break. Leaning forward slightly with is right hand pressed lightly against the felt, he smiles, "I am a gentleman, Lady Desirata, I do know how to keep a confidence. Are you upset with me because I have an interest in your mother?"
The cue ball shoots forward to smack against the side of the pyramid, sending the balls in all directions. When the last ball finishes spinning, a quick glance will confirm none were pocketed.
"Lord Navarre, my mother's affairs are her own. Any concerns would be held in a similar confidence between daughter and mother," Desirata counters, with a slight smile. "Yet, you seemed concerned about it. May I ask why?"
She pauses over a striped ball, and lines it up. Her wrist flicks quickly, barely moving against the table. Though, it is enough force to send the cue barrel richoceting off the side, sinking the stripe while the cue ball spins off to safety.
"Nice shot," Navarre circles around to the other side of the table, attempting to keep it firmly ensconced between the two of you for now. "I did mean to defend your honor the other day in the coffeehouse, Lady Desirata. Do you believe that?"
Desirata bobs her head. She only advances two steps to line up for a shot. She leans over the table. "Yes, I believe that you desired to protect my sensibilities, Lord Navarre. There was no way that you could have known Saul for a friend. One that knew me before the mantle I wear now." She she strikes, the balls bounce in the wrong direction, spiraling about the table again.
Navarre doesn't look happy about the situation you describe. "No, I was not aware. Perhaps if my cousin," he must mean Theo, "Had made mention of something sooner, the situation could have been avoided." His arm rockets back and the cue ball slams a solid ball home. "The fact that I lost my temper afterwards and baited Lord Saul is my fault and my fault alone."
Desirata leans back to a heel. "Now why would you go and do that, Lord Navarre? Do you enjoy playing with danger?" It seems a geniune question. She reaches up to brush the errant curl back from her eyesight.
Navarre glances up briefly before lining up his next shot. He sinks another ball, this time in the side pocket. "I was frustrated, first with his behaviour towards you and then his slight against Mandrake, whether it was meant or not." He stands and regards you for a moment, "I take family honor and obligation seriously, Lady Desirata. I have probably slighted it more by giving Lord Saul reason to demand satisfaction but I am young and still prone to being a victim of my own emotion."
"We can all be victims of our emotions, my lord," Desirata remarks in sympathy. She slides a hand over the chiffon skirts, settling in to watch the other play. This doesn't seem an uncommon waiting stance for the woman. "My lord, you must listen to the subtlety of others. There was mention made that his brother is engaged to a Feldane. A rather noble woman, if I may be honest. But I think that neither Lady Lucretia nor Lady Carolyne took offense. Mandrake is a noble house, such was even mentioned by the weir in question. But," she pauses and retrieves her scotch. "if you will allow me a small indulgence, my lord. You seemed upset by his presence, and for that... I am sorry."
Navarre is lining up his next shot when you 'indulge'. The cue ball ricochets off the black and into the far corner pocket. He frowns and stares down at the black ball for a moment, the grip on his cue stick dangerously tight. "I was," he admits as he lays his cue upon the red felt of the table. "I once had an unfortunate encounter with one of his kind when I was younger." He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. "It was somewhat.." Navarre searches for the right word, "Detrimental."
"Retrieve the ball and shoot again," Desirata states and doesn't shift from the casual repose. "Detrimental?" He man feel her gaze upon him, for it is studious as it takes in his full height. Her expression remaining curious. "My lord, I know it may be rude, but could you share what happened? Had I known of this previous occurrence, then I would have gone to join him instead."
Navarre does as told, walking around the table to retrieve the ball. He lines up the shot again and although he does not sink the target ball, he doesn't pot the white either. He stands tall again and takes a step back from the table allowing you freedom to take your own shot. "I was in Shadow," he pauses to clear his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I was on a hunt. You must understand that I did not know anything about the Weir."
Desirata bobs her head again, stepping slowly closer to Navarre. It seems that her shot isn't far the man. "I must confess that I'd only read about such people while in Pathi. Saul was one of the first that I met here in Amber. Perhaps a kinder introduction." She bends down, angling for another shot. The quick twist of her wrist, sinking a nearby stripe.
Navarre shrugs but he makes no move to elaborate on what transpired on this 'hunt'. "Perhaps Lady Desirata, perhaps. So it is possible that with this in mind and with my frustration at the situation that I baited a hook I knew would land him." He breathes deeply again, "For that I cannot hold you accountable."
Desirata slow turns back to Navarre, cradling her cue stick. "No, and you should not duel over a woman who would not appreciate or understand, Lord Navarre. Is there no honorable way to extricate yourself from the situation?"
"I don't need to." He looks around for something to drink, "May I pour myself a glass?" Navarre will help himself to whatever is available if given permission. "Lord Saul tracked me down and attacked me in my suite at the Golden Inn. Again I admit that I egged him on and for that I do owe you an apology, Lady Desirata. I said some things that were untoward. However, he did not seem in full possession of his faculties and after a time, calmed down."
Desirata motions to the sideboard. The scotch is still out, as well as a bottle of the 'ambrosia' and a bottle of brandy. It seems that those of the household enjoy the finer tastes. "Untoward, to Saul," she prompts, curiously. "What could have been said that would make him desire to follow you, Lord Navarre? "
Navarre pours himself some brandy and with his back still turned to you, shakes his head. "No, milady." He sounds marginally contrite, "Untoward about your person. I told him I would do things," Navarre turns around to face you, holding his drink in his left hand, "To you." His eyes look into yours, "Things a gentleman should not desire."
Desirata pauses with her glass nearly to her lips. "Things to me? Why do I think that you won't expound on that?" Is that a smile behind her glass, watching Navarre over the glass. "As I do not think this some deep desire, why would you say such things?"
"Because whatever else you might think of me, Lady Desirata, I do aspire to be a gentleman." He does not look away from you, nor does his glass move to hide his face. "Nor could you possibly begin to know my true desires, milady. That said, in part I said these things to him to further provoke him and they did. Why else I may have spoken such I will keep to myself. If you are a lady, you will allow me that small reprieve." Now Navarre takes a drink to moisten his throat. "As I said, Lord Saul calmed eventually and we discussed the duel. He is going to accept Lady Quina's advice and delope. I will crack the whip once to his right and miss. He will then strike me and if he has any skill, should draw blood. Upon sighting the blood, he will call satisfaction."
"And this is why you do not wish for me to speak to him," Desirata prompts while leaning against the table. She does lower the glass, truly studying Navarre now. "No, I cannot claim to know your heart. Such magics, I do not wield. But, I -have- seen how you look at my mother, Lord Navarre."
Navarre nods, "I don't wish for anyone to call this duel off. Lord Saul needs to prove victorious and I need to be seen to be punished for my transgression." He takes another drink from his glass, a deeper one than before as if hoping to calm his nerves. "I am a young man," Navarre says to defend himself, "And your mother is an amazing woman. Would you truly hold it against me that I find my head in a spin, entranced by her charms? It confuses me." His gaze falls to his drink, seeking some respite from such admissions. "You and she are so similiar, both independent and strong, beautiful and desirable. Again, I forget myself and my place. Forgive me. My cousin Valentine has more experience with this kind of thing, than I."
Desirata raises a staying hand. "You have not transgresse, Navarre. Truth is welcomed more so than lies, especially within these walls. I find your words flattering and refreshing." She takes a sip of her scotch. "But Navarre, the weir have come here to aid against the Road. I hope, in time, that you come to find them as allies rather than a danger. But we've only our experience to mold our decisions and steps... even in youth." She smiles encouragingly, setting her glass aside. "Come, there is no need to stand so far away, Navarre."
Navarre nods but he still does not look up at you. "I know you are right, milady. It is my own prejudice and I must find a way to overcome it." He looks up and appears a little troubled. "I want to be a better man than my father, Desirata. Sometimes it's hard remembering that and I'm afraid I'll become just like him." The last of his drink is forced down quickly and he sets the glass down none too gently before walking towards you, pausing about four steps away. "I find Amber makes my head spin and takes my breath away."
"We always fight against the ghost of our parents, Navarre. Wanting to be our own people," Desirata explains. Though her words are cut short at the soft rap.
Edward steps into the room. He looks between the two before announcing a Lord Asher Ygrayne. This has the woman taking up her scotch again, steadying it between her hands.
Navarre turns away from Desirata and moves towards the side of the table so he no longer stands too close to her. He looks to see who this Lord Asher might be.
Asher pauses at the entrance to the room and nods easily to Edward, "I hope I am not interrupting. I was in the neighborhood." there is a small bag tied around one of his wrists and the bag is held in the hand rather than let dangle.
--[ Asher ]-------------------------------------------------------------------
Some might consider it strange in a world of perpetual youth to see a middle aged man at what looks to be the crest of his life. Crows feet radiate from the outer corners of his green eyes. Light skin shimmering with a green tint when the light hits it just right. His hair is dark green with small streaks of a lighter blue wafting through it. His face is less weathered than a sailor of his age, save for the wrinkles it looks fairly preserved. Not to much time in the wind it seems.
Easy dress adorns his body, black pants tied tightly around his waist fall down to sandals with a baggy below the knees cut for easy movement. His shirt is loose and also black with a silver draw string around the neck line where it could be tied up. The neck line is cut low and shows a simple leather rope with a mirror spherical pendant with a mirrored polish.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Desirata motions Asher closer with the glass. "What is your choice of poison, Lord Asher?" She steps towards, and behind Navarre, on her way to the sideboard. The pool table bears a game that is in progress, but neither seems to be holding a cue stick (I think). "Lord Navarre de Mandrake may I introduce Lord Asher."
Navarre's cue stick lies upon the red felt of the table, Desirata's leans against the table. "Lord Asher," he bows politely in greeeting to the other man, "Well met. How do you do?" There is an empty glass at the sideboard which may have been Navarre's.
Asher bows his head to Navarre, "Likewise M'lord I am doing well thank you." he turns to Desirata and requests simply, "Rum, if you please." he moves further into the room and takes a look around more, "Nice place."
"Thank you. It took me weeks to decorate it," confides the ambassador. She takes up Navarre's glass, pouring out a bit of scotch. Though, she has to kneel and dig out the rum. When she turns about, there's three glasses in her hands. "Please, make yourselves at home. Welcome to my home."
Navarre moves forward to take his glass from Desirata, "Thank you." He looks again at Asher. "Do you play pool, Lord Asher?" Navarre seems to have tired of the current game in process and moves to sit down.
Asher continues in further and looks around still, perhaps specifically for something the way he searches for so long but eventually gives up. "I came in search of a good conversation, but I believe I might have interrupted one already." he moves to pick up his glass of rum with a smile and replies to Navarre, "Oh yes, for quite some time now. Although it might take some getting used to, considering I am used to playing under water."
"A feat you will have to show me," confides Desirata lightly. She retains her scotch and motions to the couch and chairs. "There is always time for good conversation, and I believe we've exhausted the earlier one. So a change in topics, may be wise. Would you share with us a continuation of our earlier conversation?" She moves to take up a chair.
Privately, to Navarre, Desirata brushes her fingertips lightly against his, when handing off the glass.
Privately, to Desirata, Navarre's grip slipped slightly but given his body was between his glass and Lord Asher, nobody but you sees. You also see him force down a lump in his throat before he moves away towards the chairs.
Navarre pauses in the act of sitting to wait for the lady to be seated first. Only when she is comfortable, does Navarre complete the process of sitting down. "Which earlier part of the conversation does milady wish to pursue?"
Asher grins, "Not a problem at all, we shall make a point to stop by the lounge at my home when traveling to Rebma. Maybe I'll even take you through the mirror path. The mirror in the entrance hall of Ygrayne is large enough to bring someone with you through." he then sits with the others also.
"You may find me reticient of such mirrors. My mother was trapped in such a device for over a century," explains Desirata wryly. She smiles, encompassing Navarre into the act as she slides back into the chair. "Lord Navarre, his lordship has an incredible knack, and I hope he does not think me too bold to offer such." Her gaze sliding back to Asher to see that no slight has been delivered.
"I find mirrors useful for when I need to stitch myself up." Navarre isn't jesting apparently. He glances over at Desirata, curious. "Knack? I'm afraid you've lost me, Lady Desirata."
Asher shakes his head, "No no not at all." he reassures Desirata, "And while your mother's fate is regrettable that is a trick I would like to learn. Trapping someone into a mirror." he turns to Navarre, "Water is not something that affects me, I can light a fire underwater or read a book or play pool as if it were on land. I believe this is what she is refering too."
Desirata nods at Asher's comment. "Ah, when you learn, do come to dinner again," she replies and looks to Navarre. "My previous standing was that of seeker, my lord. I've been unable to suppress my natural curiosity, even in my current position."
Navarre oh's. "I see. I was unaware of such. Curiousity is one of those things that I find causes you to be damned if you, damned if you don't." He inclines his head, "Excusing my language of course." He sips at the scotch Desirata poured for him.
Asher lifts his glass and chuckles, "This is true, and the mastery of when to question and when not to is quite an art." he sips from his drink and looks back and fourth, "So, what is was the concensus in the last conversation. Did we decide you could use Sorcery as an umbrella term?"
Privately, to Desirata, Navarre looks at you when he speaks of damnation and curiousity, his gaze a little more intense than it should be in public company. He is quick to look away when Lord Asher speaks.
The northern door opens on Edward again. His vision obscured by a rather large bouquet. An assortment of hothouse flowers, and the man makes a beeline for the ambassador.
"That it is, and been known to get me in trouble before my current station," Desirata states candidly. Her brow furrows at the sight of the flowers, slowly rising to her feet to intercept the servant. Her smile returning at Asher's comment. "I did promise to show a bit of -sorcery- at our last meeting." She leans in for the servant to whisper to her.
Navarre watches the delivery of flowers, "It seems Lady Desirata has an admirer, Lord Asher." He studies the other gentleman for a moment, "I'm afraid I have no sorcerous talents, the two of you will probably find me utterly boring."
Asher's eyebrows raise at the bouquet, he nods to Navarre; "Who is it from?" he wonders aloud and then sips his rum in pause before turning to Navarre, "Oh me either in the standard sense. The water thing is just something I learned from living in Rebma for nearly a millennia, and the mirrors are not quite the same as sorcery either.."
"If you could excuse me only a moment. It seems more an apology," Desirata replies to her companions. She motions for Edward to see about a vase while she heads for the door. "I promise to only be a moment," she assures.
Navarre stands and bows his head in Desirata's direction, "Of course, Lady Desirata."
Asher stands likewise and nods, "What ever you need obviously." he waits for her to move and sits back down afterwards.
Desirata nods and slips out.
Navarre says, "So Rebma? I've never visited Rebma. You must get asked all the time about it. So I shall try to refrain from doing just that. Are you just visiting Amber, Lord Asher or do you live here?"
Asher chuckles, "I am visiting for now, my sister is head of the house. Ygrayne is a noble rebman house, she asked me to look into the assets we have here, properties and such and report back to her."
Navarre nods, "Ah, I see. Might I enquire as to the identity of your sister, Sir? I have only been in Amber for a short time since returning and find that I am a stranger in my own land."
Asher ahs, "I doubt you know her she doesn't get topside very often. Her name is Euwen. But you might know my niece, Ula. Or my other sister Orabel, Ula's mother. She has spent some time here working with Servalle in the Rebman Embassy."
Navarre looks clueless, "I'm afraid I know none of these ladies, Lord Asher." He does recognize Servalle's name though. "I have been introduced to Lord Servalle, he was dining with an acquaintance of mine once. Lady Raphaela de Sorgo, do you know her?"
Navarre is standing near the sideboard, hand wavering as he holds the bottle of scotch. His glass is empty once more and he seems to be debating whether or not to pour another. Lord Asher is not within the room but the outer door is open suggesting he may be taking a walk in the gardens for some fresh air.
Desirata slips into the room, looking about the room. The open door taken in account as her gaze rests to Navarre. "It seems that we have a reprieve, my lord. Think you could pour me another?"
Desirata 's hands brush against his again, deliberate for her gaze seeks out his. "You seem nervous," she comments, slightly amused. "Do I frighten you, Navarre?"
Navarre's gaze is easily found and he lets you hold it. "Do I?" He takes a quick sip of the scotch but he does not hide behind his glass for long. "No, you don't frighten me, Desirata. I don't know you well enough to be frightened. Confuse me, yes. I told you, my cousin Tine is better at this kind of thing than I. I am used to the presence of chaperones and disapproving looks should I forget my place. None of that is here."
"Pathi has a rather interesting opinion of lovers, Navarre. You see, we marry for political means, and seek out more discretionary partners." Desirata motions to the couch, inching there as well. "Just be yourself. Or maybe channel that of your cousin."
Navarre moves towards the couch but does not sit until after you do and he ensures there is a comfortable distance between you. "I would rather be myself, milady than be false." He takes another sip, "Please forgive my ignorance, Desirata, my knowledge about Pathi is sorely lacking."
Desirata arches a brow to Navarre. "I would be surprised if you had, my lord. Even my mother has not learned fully of our ways." Her brow furrows and she rises two fingers to her temple. Her eyes taking on a far away look.
Desirata presses to fingers to her temple. She's sitting on the couch in the smoking parlor of the townhome. "Yes," she prompts, curiously.
Navarre goes to reply but he recognizes what is happening, so he sits still and sips at his drink.
Desirata nods. "Good evening. I hope your day is going well," she offers conversationally. She smiles apologeticaly to Navarre.
Navarre's gaze lingers a little too long at times but he does try to give you some privacy but he does not move away.
Desirata shakes her head. "Lord de Mandrake and I have been enjoying a game of billards. A rather quiet evening at home."
Navarre sips some more and smiles back in understanding.
Desirata winks to Navarre at the comment. She raises her glass to him, possibly a private thanks.
Desirata nods. "Or we can meet there," she suggests.
Navarre catches himself staring at you and shifts on the couch, twisting his body slightly away from you. He tries to find something interesting on the other wall to look at for a while.
Desirata glances to Navarre and then focuses her thoughts and comments to the air. "Hmm, one or two, shouldn't be too out of place. That is, unless you are called away again."
Desirata chuckles softly. "An hour, then. We can discuss a few House matters then. That, and the traps," she adds.
Navarre gulps down half the contents of his glass and concentrates on his breathing, studying something of interest opposite him.
Desirata straightens, clearly loosing the connection. "Where were we?" She seems to noticed is distant look and reaches out to tuck a fingertip beneath his chin and draw back his attention.
Navarre's head turns slowly, his jaw clenching and remaining so at the light touch beneath his chin. "You were telling me of the ways of Pathi and I was boring you with my ignorance, I'm sure."
Desirata shakes her head. "Surprisingly, your questions are refreshing," she counters. Her brow arches at the rigidness. "Navarre, do tell me if I'm too forward. It is not my intent to cause you distress, but try and work out our differences."
Navarre transfers his glass to his right hand, cupping it. His left hand then reaches upwards to gently wrap around your hand. "So you do admit it then? There is some manner of disagreement between us?" His gaze lowers to look at your hand, which he turns over in his to study your palm.
"You seem to beleive there to be one," Desirata offers in a conciliatory tone. Her hands are delicate, lacking in the callouses of a laborer or swordsman. "Why are you nervous then, if there is no trouble?"
Navarre doesn't release the lady's hand but he does lift his gaze to meet hers again. "You cannot tell me, Desirata, that you are unaware of your effect upon men? I don't wish there to be any ill will between us, however, I cannot shake free of this impression that there is."
Desirata taps her fingertip to his cheek. "I would prefer to claim ignorance to such effects, Navarre. It is easier when dealing in the realm of politics." She gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "Why would someone say that I'm displeased with you though?"
Navarre smiles and offers an easy explanation but no names, "Perhaps they sought to keep me offside with you?" He starts to trace the various lines within your palm. "I am not a political man, Lady Ambassador, that is your realm of expertise, not mine."
"Offside," she prompts and leans closer. Desirata says, "What do you mean? I'm not familiar with such a term. Do you mean to keep us apart?"
Navarre nods, "Yes, that's what I meant. However, I cannot understand why. There is nothing between us, milady." His eyes search yours. "I am very fond of your mother, Desirata, but I have been a gentleman with her. I admit to having stolen a kiss but no more."
"Navarre, I will confess a small truth to you. It breaks my heart to see what my father and mother had shared coming to an end. They were such a fiery couple," she sighs and sinks back to the cushions. "But we have only met on a few occassions, and if I ever confessed my age, you would think me ancient."
Navarre gently lets go of your hand, taking your movement as a signal to stop. "I was not aware of any romantic ties when I first met Lady Delilah, Desirata. If I had known that when she first pursued me, I would have baulked." He frowns, looking troubled, "I don't wish to be used as an excuse to end another's relationship." There's the hint of a smile and Navarre says softly, "My lady, I could never think you ancient, nor would I ever ask you for it. If you are older than I, I simply imagine you have more experience in the ways of the world than I do."
"Maybe in some ways, but not in others. My studies occupied most of my time, Navarre," Desirata offers candidly. She reaches up to brush at his cheek. "No, I don't think that she would, if she was pursuing you. Women tend not to give away such facts while another may prove more favorable." Again comes the gentle tap. "I ask only that you do not pursue such a relationship within our home. This is my father's home, Navarre, and could be perceived as a slight upon him."
Navarre seems to understand something, "I see. So there was some tension, dear lady. You were concerned for your father's honor. I meant no slight or disrespect, I will not pay court to your mother, here in your father's house. Please accept my apology?"
Desirata nods, blushing slightly. "Please understand, Navarre. My family means a great deal to me. Almost rivaling the love I hold for my people." She caresses his cheek, a gentle and tender touch. "... and thank you."
Navarre's eyes close momentarily as the lady caresses his cheek. "It seems I have had a lot to apologize for this day. You give me hope though," he smiles, "That all things can be reconciled and friendships forged."
"That they can, my lord. You need only hold a bit of trust," she confides and shifts to rise. "But I should probably send you on your way before talk begins. That, and you may wish to speak with my mother."
Navarre nods and rises to his feet as well. "Of course. If I meet with her before you do, is there any message you would like me to pass on?"
Desirata tilts her head. "No, there is no message, Navarre. Thank you, though, for understanding."
Navarre sets his glass down by the sideboard so that he can bow respectfully to you. "Of course, Desirata. I am glad that we have been able to resolve this matter. Now it only remains for Lord Saul and I to resolve ours."
"Speaking of which, when will this duel be?" Desirata follows after, setting her glass to the sideboard. The missing lord's taken with her.
Navarre straightens and shrugs, "I am not certain. The date has yet to be set due to my injury. Lord Saul was kind enough to give me some time to recuperate before adding his own injury to my person."
Desirata reaches out to touch his hand again. "Do you think he will hurt you, Navarre. You mentioned that it would be only a grazing blow, was it not?"
Navarre tenses again at the touch, nervous again. "Have you ever seen a man whipped, Desirata? A man's skin can be broken if there is skill behind the blow, otherwise it could take three to four lashes in the same area to tear through the skin into the flesh beneath." The dark look in Navarre's eyes indicates he has seen a man whipped before. "If he hurts me, it is no more than what I deserved for the things I said. I only wish that I had not lost my head and given in to my anger."
"Yet they were an empty threat to incite," comments Desirata, pressing the gentle touch. "You tease whenever I draw close, Navarre. It leads one to think that you dislike my company." A playful teasing to her voice as she retreats a step.
Navarre is made bold by your statement and he steps forward into the area she has retreated from. "I don't dislike your company," he murmurs, "But I don't know if you tease me now, taking advantage of my inexperience in such matters." His voice has dropped to a whisper, "Is that what you are doing to me?" Navarre looks uncertain, hoping for some kind of answer.
Desirata shakes her head. "If it was a ploy to play upon your innocence, my actions were not be tempered." She lower into a curtsy. "Why? Do you believe that I would toy with you, Navarre?"
Navarre's hands clench into fists and he looks pained as he asks, "You are your mother's daughter are you not? Does she not toy with me to pain your father? Consider me once bitten and twice shy, milady. I do not know what to think. My father neglected this part of my education in favor of brutality."
"I'm merely the woman before you, Navarre. In all such glory," she replies with a wry smile. She rises from the curtsy. "Do you think that I would not pounce upon you like a feline with a toy, if I wear merely playing?"
Navarre lifts his hands to his head, his fingers worrying at his hair. The action causes him to wince, the injury to his right wrist still painful. "I don't know, I don't understand these games. They confuse me and remind me of the things I have said. Things that were wrong of me to say."
"Such as," prompts Desirata curiously. "I don't know what has been said, Navarre. So how am I to understand, or is that the intent?"
"But if I tell you, you would think ill of me." Navarre looks around the room frantically. "And then the good work we have done here will be undone and for what? A moment of weakness on my part, Desirata and I don't want you to think of me as weak or ... worse."
Desirata sighs, leaning her hip to the sideboard. "Yes, but truth is a valuable commodity too, Navarre. Would you wish for me to hear such words from another's mouth? Would that not also undo what we have forged?"
Navarre knows you're right but it is still difficult for him to say them to you. "I told him..." He falters then, not sure where to look, anywhere but at you. A quick breath is sucked in and then as it is exhaled, so are his words in one big rush, "I told him that I wanted you and I would take you and there was nothing he could do to stop me."
"... take me?" Desirata speaks the words slowly. Her gaze unwavering to Navarre. She doesn't push away from her perch, merely crosses her arms. "Why did you say this, was it because you wished to?"
"It was to make him angry, he was talking about defending you and I knew it would be a barb that would strike deep." Navarre rubs hs face with his hands and sighs, "I told you my comments were untoward but you wished to know them, so I have told you. I would never, could never, take you, Desirata. Even I know that such a matter is a lady's choice to make. So I told him what I knew would hurt him because such a thing would have hurt me."
"To take one of your friends?" Again comes the subtle shake of her head. "I would say that you've misread our friendship, but it did upset him. Navarre, is it because of your prior experience that made you wish to fight him?"
"He was protective of you, milady. Regardless of how I have interpreted your friendship with Lord Saul, the barb struck true. His affection for you runs deep, Desirata." Navarre looks away, "I don't wish to talk about that. Somethings should stay buried in the past where they belong. I hurt him as I have hurt you and this is why I must atone for the things I have done."
"I will not interfere with your duel. Though, I will speak with Saul when he comes to speak to me," Desirata states. Though she does not make comment to who her earlier guest may have been. "Words do not hurt a person, Navarre. But, I should probably retire for the night. YOu are welcome to join me again for dinner, if you are concerned that I've taken yours comments poorly."
Navarre is quick to bow, "Of course, I did not mean to keep you as long as I have." He glances at you, curious as to whether or not you seem the slightest bit offended. "Thank you, Desirata, it would be an honor to dine with you. Please take care and once again, accept my apologies for any offense I may have caused you or your father."
Desirata dips her head. "As I said, her affairs are her own. But this is my family's estate here in Amber. Well," a sly smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "In part." Her smile returns easily to her lips. If there's been an offense, she doesn't show it. "Do take care, though, and perhaps when this duel is done, we can put it behind us."
Navarre nods, 'Of course. Good day, Lady Desirata." He turns and makes his way out.